Interlude
by Nan
Summary: Third separate vignette is up. It's a couple of years later. HM shipper
1. Interlude I

* * *

Title: Interlude 

Author: Nan

Disclaimer: Don't own 'em – wish I did.

Spoilers: Missing Scene 'Fair Winds and Following Seas.' The rest is self explanatory.

* * *

Mac slipped silently out of Harm's embrace. He was out like a light; dead to the world – making those cute little snoring sounds that she heard when he fell asleep in his office a week ago. She moved noiselessly in the darkened room, scanning the floor for something to wear. Stepping over her discarded pants and blouse, she reached down for a flowered puddle of fabric. Harm's shirt. The one he had been wearing when she interrupted him earlier. 

She wrapped the oversized garment around her and closed her eyes for a moment. There was a Harm smell - one part aftershave, one part sweat and the last part was the indescribable aroma that was the man. She completed her outfit with a pair of slightly damp panties and her socks.

Mac wandered through Harm's half dismantled apartment. It was disorienting to see it in such a state. Harm's Union Station apartment had been a fixture; an institution. For as long as she had known him, he had lived here. Now, even that was changing.

There were two piles of boxes. One, items destined for storage in DC. The second were the things he was taking to London.

London! And more to the point – San Diego! She smiled. Despite the kisses, the heated moans, the unbelievable sex and all the talk about trusting fate - nothing had been solved. But somehow, the world was definitely clearer, in a funny sort of way. Amazing how that worked.

She hugged the shirt again and continued to circle the apartment. How could he sleep through this? She, on the other hand, could not sleep. She felt elated, exuberant and down right possessive. Possessive yes. Possessive about Harm. Her man. Mac's man – Harmon Rabb Jr., Flyboy, JAG and pretty much the best looking man in whole US Navy. Her's.

Mac grinned at her silliness.

A flood of women's images downloaded into her active memory. Over the years, she had been forced to watch as Annie, Jordan, Bobbie, Coulter, Catherine plus numerous petty officers, lieutenants, civilians, lawyers, doctors, pilots traipse through Harm's life. All had at least a passing interest in that military officer who now lay sleeping in the next room, mouth open with a trace of delectable drool. Buck-naked.

Was this the same marriage-adverse man who had proposed matrimony without sleeping together first?

She looked over to the metal doorway to Harm's apartment. Her overheated imagination conjured up images of floozies and bimbos trying to invade. She struck a defensive pose in front of the door in preparation of battle against the enemy. This was a marine's job. Hands up, legs braced. She sprang, in best kick boxing form, making a twisting double jab at the air with her socked feet. It was a warning to all women. 'Don't mess with me.' She almost giggled out loud as she landed.

She had tamed the beast, climbed the mountain, and crossed the ocean. He wanted her. HER. She, Colonel, marine, Mac, Ninja girl, Sarah. She felt like racing across the silent apartment and jumping on top of his sleeping form. She wanted to shake him awake. To tell him the good news. Had he heard? Harmon Rabb wanted her. He should be the first to know, after all. He was her best friend. After all, she had told him everything else important in her life.

Not only did he want her, he loved her. Wanted to marry her. This was the dream she had never let herself dream. It was just so unlikely, improbable. What had she told McCool? Her chances were low. Really low. 4 low. So low, even sexually inept Panda bears had a better chance than Mac and Harm. It was at that low point of self realization that she gave up her subscription to the National Zoo.

She shadow boxed again; this time jabbing the air with a quick one, two, three punch. She had beaten the odds.

"Mac?"

It was Harm. She stopped dead and whirled around. There he was, dressed only in regulation boxers, standing by the entrance to the bedroom. One eyebrow was higher than the other as he suppressed a quizzical smile. She felt her heart leap at the sight of him.

"Interesting choice of activity, all things considered." he said.

"All things considered?" she countered weakly.

He walked over to the fridge and reached inside for a bottle of water. "Well, some people have a cigarette after sex. You kick box."

"Are you complaining?" she asked, leaning on the kitchen island and admiring the muscular shape of his broad shoulders.

She watched with satisfaction as his eyes moved downward, enjoying the sight of her breasts through the gapping front of the large shirt as she leaned forward. His nostrils flared slightly.

Time to start flirting with everything she had. Now the attraction between them was out in the open, it was all out war. And this was one battle she was going to win. Over and over and over again.

Harm grinned at as he reached out and grabbed her arm, bringing her around the counter and into his embrace. She nestled in and her pulse picked up, once again.

"You're making it hard to concentrate," he said, voice muffled as his face was buried in her hair.

"That depends," she whispered.

"On what?"

"On what you want to concentrate." Mac said, nuzzling his neck.

"We can't do this all day," Harm closed his eyes, enjoying her ministrations.

"I could," she replied.

He moaned slightly but persisted. "You, me – we have to decide. Where to live."

Mac continued to focus on his neck by placing small, light kisses around the nape. "I've decided. We'll both go to London."

"London? That means…" he started but couldn't finish. Mac too, was finding it hard to think.

"That means I resign. I'm okay with that," she said. "I decided."

He pushed her away slightly and looked into her eyes. "You decided? Well, how about this? San Diego is close to my parents. Mattie could continue her treatment in the US. And I could fly reserve out of Miramar."

"It's my turn," argued Mac, going back to his neck. She traced her tongue across his collar bone.

"Your turn to do what?"

"You resigned to save me in Paraguay. Now it's my turn," she said patiently and slowly. Really, he could be so obtuse at times. "Harm, you are going to be Force Judge Advocate in Europe. I don't want you to give that up."

"Well, maybe I don't want you to give up command of joint forces legal services in San Diego. You have a legitimate shot at the first female Judge Advocate General." Harm argued in his courtroom voice.

"So do you!"

"First female Judge Advocate General?" he smiled.

"You know what I mean." Mac sighed. The mood was starting pass. They were arguing again. First, neither wanted to resign. Now both did. Maybe Chegwidden was right. They just liked to disagree.

She looked down and leaned her forehead against his chest. "I don't want to lose you. I'll resign if I have to."

She felt his forefinger on her chin, propelling her face upward. She found herself looking reluctantly into his beautiful blue eyes. In a quiet voice, Harm said, "Now that I have you, I'm never going to lose you. Ever. Okay? And that doesn't mean you have to resign."

"Okay," she said. "Now what do we do?"

"How about a coin toss?" he asked.

"A what?"

"Toss a coin. Heads or tails. Who ever wins; that's where we will go. Okay?" He looked earnest.

"Is this your idea of fate?" she smiled.

"Sure, it is. What do you say?"

"Okay." Mac agreed heavy hearted. Either choice, it was going to be painful. Maybe this was the only way. "Are we going to do it right now?"

Harm pushed her to arms length and paused. They were standing together, half naked in his half packed apartment. "No," he said. "Not like this." Mac realized he was right. For a decision as big as this, to do it here seemed a little, well frivolous.

"Trust me," he said and reached for the phone on the counter.

Mac thought to herself, 'With my life.' She smiled at him, wondering what he was up to.

He was already talking into the receiver. "Bud? How's everything?"

He was talking to the Roberts. She listened to the one sided conversation.

"I have a favour to ask, Bud. Could you and Harriet come to uh, McMurphy's in about an hour?"

McMurphy's was perfect, thought Mac. None of the other assorted bars and restaurants within a stone's throw of JAG held the memories of McMurphy's. She loved that old bar.

Harm continued. "I need you to perform a little ceremony for Mac and myself. A coin toss to decide which one of us resigns our commission."

Mac watched as Harm smiled at receiver in his hand. Bud was asking the obvious question. "Mac and I are getting married. But we have this career issue to sort out first. Will you come?"

Whatever Bud said at that point must have been special. Harm was still grinning as he put down the phone a few minutes later. He turned to her and said, "I'm going to call Sturgis and Coates, too. I'd like them there too."

Mac nodded. "You think General Cresswell would come? I mean – this is ultimately going to affect him. He'll need to find a replacement, one way or the other."

"Sounds like a job for the Petty Officer. I'll ask her."

By the time Harm finished phoning their friends; Mac had dressed back into attire suitable for public viewing. She walked over to Harm and put her arms around his waist, resting her head on his broad back. "You ready for this, flyboy?" she asked, paraphrasing the question she had asked a couple of days ago.

He shinned around to face her without breaking the embrace. As she looked up, she was surprised to see his eyes were shiny. If she didn't know better, she would think he had been crying. Not crying. Misting up, maybe. Sentimental for sure. She hugged him again.

"Everything okay?" she asked.

He held on tight. "Talking to Bud, Coates, Sturgis – it made it seem so real," he admitted. "I like real."

"I like real, too," she said. It was going to be more than just real. It was going to be special. She had been doing some planning of her own. She thought about a deep red dress she bought a couple of months ago. It hugged her in all the right places and had a side slit that was dangerous. Harm would be putty in her hands.

She thought of one additional detail to make the evening extraordinary. Something she had always dreamed about. Literally. Something every flyboy should wear.

"Harm," she said breaking away from his arms. "I need to go now. I'll be at McMurphy's in an hour. Okay?"

"Okay," he said.

"One more thing," she said, as she was exiting out his door. "Did I ever tell you how much I like dress whites and gold wings? Even better - mess dress and gold wings."

His answering grin was as wide as the Potomac River and his eyes just as blue. She smiled back.


	2. Interlude II

* * *

Title: Interlude II 

Author: Nan

Disclaimer: Don't own 'em – wish I did.

Spoilers: Missing Scene 'Fair Winds and Following Seas.' This starts up several hours after the end. The coin has been tossed and we are already at the last hour of Harm's declared 12 hour deadline.

Note: Thanks for the positive reviews - love'd em all. Highplainswoman; by Interlude II; I am forced to define a timeline for FWAFS (something TPTB managed to evade in the show). So let's imagine that Harm's plane for England leaves just before midnight. This means when he mentioned the 12 hour deadlinein his apartment; it was around noon. Since everyone (except possibly the general) were in their Class A's (telling me that they came directly from work)- I assume that they met at McMurphy's around 6pm; did the coin toss; partied for a while; then left for Dulles around 9.30pm. That means whatever hanky panky went on in Harm's apartment; it took about four or five hours.

What was the general wearing? Not sure but it didn't seem like he had his uniform under that regulation jacket to me. Seemed like just a T shirt. But what do I know? Perhaps Coates interrupted the man while he was at the gym boxing with the marines?

* * *

In military speak, it was 2217. The food concourse at Washington Dulles Airport was deserted except for a dark-haired man in formal naval mess dress and a woman in eye catching red. Two non-fat, tall lattes stood between them on the table, inside the circle created by their outstretched arms and interlaced fingers.

"You realize that your last official case at Falls Church, you lost to Bud?" Mac was teasing him.

"I didn't lose, Vukovic lost," said Harm. He was watching her smile. Funny, how the last couple of hours, he couldn't keep his eyes off of her. Was he imagining it or did she seem more beautiful than ever?

"Vukovic, smukovic. Face it Harm, Bud out maneuvered both of you."

"Yeah, well, Slick Vic still needs to learn a thing or two. Like when to follow through on evidence."

"Our young lieutenant managed to put one by you, didn't he Captain?" said Mac, emphasizing his new military title.

"End of discussion." He tried to glare menacing at her and failed.

There was silence. Then, "When do you have to go?" Mac looked out the window at the line-up of oversized jets tethered to the terminal by their elevated gates.

"Flight starts boarding in twenty minutes. I still have security to go through. But it won't take long." Harm was silent for a minute. It was hard to gauge what she was thinking. "Do you regret the outcome?" He was referring to the coin toss that took place two hours ago at McMurphys.

"Nothing's changed yet," said Mac. "Who knows? Cresswell said there might be a third choice."

"We are going to go through with it, no matter what?" Harm searched her face for any doubt.

"We almost gave the general a heart attack for minute, back in McMurphy's." Mac tried to smile but failed. "He thought one of us was quitting on the spot."

"Giving him six months notice seemed only fair no matter what result. Gives him time to fill the position," Harm said.

"Nobody's irreplaceable," said Mac, a little sadly.

"Absolutely," said Harm firmly. "Just think how happy we made Sturgis. When's your flight to San Diego?"

"Next week."

"Tell me again how you managed to escape the 72 hour deadline?" asked Harm.

"Think about it Harm," said Mac. "This joint services thing is a brand new command. Staff yet to be in place. Nada people in San Diego yet. Except Graves, maybe. But you - Force Judge Advocate in England is an established office. They're expecting you, sailor. Yesterday."

"No one for you to command just yet, huh? I know a remedy to that," said Harm. "I like it when you're on top." He smiled suggestively, trying to get her to smile once more before he left. Instead a cloud passed over her face.

"Did I actually say that?" said Mac ashamed. "I'm so sorry."

"There will be no 'sorries' tonight. Okay? Besides, there was a certain amount of truth to the statement." Harm paused again for a moment. They both thought about a certain taxi stand by a hotel in Paraguay. "Can I ask you a favor?"

"Let me guess – Mattie?"

"Yes…'

Mac interrupted. "I thought I might go to Blacksburg tomorrow. Mattie might enjoy the company and I really ought to know the other woman in my fiancé's life a little better."

"Fiancé, I like the sound of that," said Harm. ."Does this mean its official, Mac?"

"Yes."

"Our little game with fate. The coin toss, everything."

"I want to be with you."

"I want to be with you. Not halfway around the world." reaffirmed Harm.

"Me too."

"Mattie's really excited about the news," said Harm.

"Was she surprised?" she asked.

"Less than you might think. My goal now is to have her mobile by our wedding. I want her to walk down the aisle with me."

"Or how about with me? I was thinking she would make a beautiful bridesmaid. Along with Chloe, of course. When's that going to be, by the way?"

"The doctors are talking optimistically right now. Although there may be permanent damage; with therapy and treatment, walking is a reasonable goal. They mentioned three months."

"Fall, then," said Mac.

"Fall," agreed Harm.

"How about September? Where?" asked Mac.

"Where what?"

"Our proposed nuptials."

"You're the bride – shouldn't that be your decision?" Harm's long fingers were fiddling with hers.

"Annapolis?" said Mac.

"How about a hillside in Afghanistan surrounded by goats?" countered Harm. "I know a great one. Cosy at night, if I recall."

"If you don't take into account falling missiles," said Mac. "I'm trying to be serious here."

"I am being serious. How about Siberia with a band of gypsies?"

"How about by the catapult on the deck of an aircraft carrier?" said Mac, brown eyes matching the twinkle in his blue ones.

"Now you're talking."

"How about Annapolis in the fall surrounded by friends and family?" Mac was unmoved by his best attempt at a flyboy grin.

"How about at the main flag pole on the parade field at Quantico?" Harm suggested. "That would make the General happy."

"Annapolis it is. Last weekend in September." Mac said in her marine drill sergeant voice that stopped any further comment.

"Yes, ma'am," said Harm. "Mac? One more thing."

"Now what?" said Mac.

"Contrary to what you and that bartender at McMurphy's might think, I do have a ring." Harm reached into his pocket and brought out a battered ring box.

Mac's eye's lit up. "What happened to the box?"

"I'll tell you later. Just open it."

Mac delicately reached out and plucked the box from his palm. She opened it carefully. Inside was a simple gold ring with a mounted diamond solitaire surrounded by two smaller stones. She smiled, wide-eyed and looked at him questioningly.

"Don't worry. Diamonds are from the Canadian Arctic. Non-conflict stones. Guaranteed. No diamond drama here," Harm said quietly.

"I'm glad," said Mac thinking about Admiral Chegwidden, the Naval Research Lab and the CIA.

"It's a polar bear with two cubs."

"A polar bear?" quizzed Mac.

"Yeah, the diamond has a little polar bear etched on the girdle."

"Where? I can't see it," teased Mac. She held up the ring to the light.

"Of course you can't. It's microscopic. But you knew that. If you don't like it, just say so. We'll get something you like."

"Don't you dare get something else - I love it." Mac slipped it on her left ring finger and held out her hand. "Okay, Harm. Fess up. You haven't had time to change your clothes never mind buy a diamond. Where did this come from?"

"I bought it two years ago this May."

Mac looked carefully at the ring and the box. The box looked like it had been squished. Like it had been in some sort of accident. Suddenly, she realized what sort of accident. A plane accident.

"Paraguay," she said and tears sprang to her eyes, "Why didn't you say something?"

"Well, lets see – maybe it was male pride, stupidity or Clay? Take your pick."

"I'll share in that stupidity, if you don't mind. It took me three months of unanswered phone messages while you were flying for the CIA to force me to admit I'd acted pretty horribly towards the man who single handedly saved my life."

"Most events would have never happened if I had just stated how I felt."

"Maybe. Or not. Perspective took me a while to gain. But that is now all in the past, right?" Mac looked at him with imploring eyes.

Harm's heart started to break. In less than five minutes, he would need to leave. There was so much he wanted to say to her. So many things that had to be talked out. Separation might change her perspective, once again. Email and telephones were no substitute to holding her, watching her and feeling her reactions. September might as well be forever.

He took her left hand with the shiny new ring and held it up between them. "See this? This is how I felt then. Always will feel. For me, there has only been you. Are you going to remember that?"

Mac countered his serious look with one of her own. Her eyes started to tear up. She said in a shaky voice. "Will you? After all, sailor, all the changes are going to be on your side. The result was tails."

"My idea, remember? My parents, Miramar – there are a lot of advantages to San Diego. Who knows, maybe a lucrative little law practice so we can afford a house on the beach."

"Then why do I feel so crummy?" said Mac, looking away.

"Suck it up, marine. That was an equal opportunity coin flip. We both knew the odds going in."

"I should have known tails would come up. It always comes up," she said quietly. "I feel like running from this whole idea. And you."

It was probably the most honest statement she had ever made to him.

"Don't you dare," he said. She had issues with worthiness that stemmed from her childhood.

"I love you," she said. "But loving me…"

"Is the best thing that ever happened to me," he finished.

They sat a moment; just holding hands. Mac broke the silence. "It's 2243. You have to go. I'll walk you to security."

They stood up together. Harm wrapped his arms around her. The tapping of her heels on the tiled floor was the only sound as they walked toward the gate.

Fin

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6 


	3. Interlude III

Title: Interlude 3

Author: Nan

Disclaimer: Don't own 'em – wish I did.

Spoilers: None. All.

Author's notes – I'm switching from the premise I set up in Interlude 2. In this little vignette, Mac lost the toss and they are living in London. This is just recreational fluff.

Mac was wrestling with the baby jogger; trying to maneuver it across the narrow threshold of their London townhouse, when she realized Harm was standing in the hallway.

"Hey." Her eyebrows wrinkled together momentarily. "It's Wednesday, remember? Mattie has a late class. I haven't even thought about supper yet."

Her husband was sorting idly through the stack of mail on the hall table. He looked up and smiled. "Thought you and I could eat early tonight. I even thought maybe I'd make the dinner," he said.

"You did?" Mac was puzzled. She pushed the stroller down the hallway and stopped to kiss the man in the blue American Navy uniform resplendent with four gold stripes.

He responded with that slow gentle kiss that still made her heart race, even after two and half years of marriage. "Hmmmmm," he said softly, as they broke apart. "You taste salty. How far did you go today?"

"Just five clicks. But the pace was fast. I blame that on Trey. The faster I go the more your son likes it."

"He has a 'need for speed,' does he?" Harm reached down and started to unclip the harness holding the eight month old baby secure. "I'm jealous. I'd like to be running around with you, too." He picked up Trey and swung him over his head. The reaction was immediate. Trey squealed with delight.

Mac made her way to the kitchen. There were a couple of bags of groceries on the counter. Harm did indeed, intend to make dinner.

"How's the Reynold's case?" Mac asked.

"McBurney's rigid as ever. I'm starting to wonder if I made the right decision putting him on prosecution."

"That's all you're worried about?" Mac asked as she put the milk in the fridge.

"Well, I would run the defense a little different than Lt. Vukovic."

"I thought you set our young lieutenant straight?" smiled Mac.

"He needs another tune-up. And I can't wait to give it to him. Unfortunately, I haven't caught him at anything lately."

"Besides," said Mac. "You want Vukovic to win this one."

"You caught me. Yeah, I think the pilot is innocent," said Harm, bouncing Trey on his knee as he sat at the kitchen table.

Mac smiled in reply. Harm knew he couldn't influence a case. But it didn't stop him from wishing he could. Still tidying the work surface of the kitchen counter; she reached for Harm's briefcase. There was an open letter on the top.

"What's this?" she said, picking up the letter. "You've got new orders?"

Harm was concentrating on the baby.

Mac looked up. "You have orders to Washington?" she said confused.

"Look again," said Harm quietly.

Mac studied the document with confusion. And then she saw what she missed the first. The top of the letter was addressed to "Lieutenant Colonel Sarah Mackenzie." These weren't for Harm. These were her orders.

"They are activating my reserve status?"

"It's the boundary dispute case currently on the docket in the World Court in The Hague," said Harm. "As a start, you are to report to the State Department and the Pentagon for briefing. Oh and they need you ASAP.

Mac re read the letter and waited. And waited. She waited for some sort of reaction to well up from the recesses of her mind. But she felt nothing.

Instead, she blurted out, "I can't do this!" She looked over to Harm. He was playing peek-a-boo with Trey.

"Why not?" asked Harm. She could hear Trey chuckle at Harm's attempts to amuse him.

"Trey, you, Mattie," she listed. "I can't go flying around the world like I used to."

Harm was silent. And that silence spoke volumes. Suddenly, it hit her. He was in support of this goofy idea.

"You can't manage Trey. Not with JAG. And Mattie's full time at college now. You can't saddle her with an eight month old."

"I don't want Mattie looking after Trey either. But she can fill in on occasion to give Mom a break."

"Trish?"

"Didn't I tell you that Mom is coming to visit? She arrives Saturday."

Mac stared at him, stunned. She tried to process this piece of new information. A month ago, Trish had finally sold the gallery in La Jolla. Since Frank's death last year, her heart was no longer in it. This meant she was more of a free agent than she had been for years. Now, the pieces fit. Harm had wheedled his mother into looking after Trey while she was away.

"How long have you known about this?" she accused him. He was enjoying this way too much.

"A while."

"Trish knows about this?" Mac waved the letter in the air.

"She jumped at the suggestion. I think she's lonely."

"What about you? Are you okay with having your mom here, full time, for a while?" asked Mac, turning the tables. She studied his reactions. Harm's unusual life choices had strained the relationship between mother and son. In a nutshell, Harm felt guilty for the worry he had caused her over the years.

"Yeah. I'm settled, married, kids and have a desk job. There's absolutely nothing stopping me from looking her straight in the eye with anything but a clear conscience."

"Except perhaps, your latest set of quals," said Mac. She paused then started again. "Ever since Christmas in DC, you've been plotting this, haven't you?"

"DC?"

"At the Roberts. When Harriet, myself and the admiral were comparing notes on our post retirement activities. You made that remark that we were all enjoying this 'way too much!"

"Well, you were! I had to listen to the admiral's stories about ball parks across the nation; Harriet's latest escapades with AJ, Jimmy and the twins. And then of course, you told them all about that paleontology dig on the English/Scottish border. Sheeesh."

"Jealous?" she asked.

"True. As I recall, you guys were actually contemplating a bird-watching trip to Costa Rica."

"I thought it sounded like fun," said Mac.

"Bird watching? That's when I knew it was time for an intervention."

"What's wrong with looking after Trey, you and Mattie?" She was off on another track. Somehow, she felt she needed to defend her activities.

"Did I say something was wrong with it?" Harm's voice was taking on an annoyed tone. "I thought you might enjoy the challenge. Take it as a compliment."

"Who suggested my name, anyway?"

"That's a long story. But once Chegwidden was recalled to active duty on a special project basis – it was a slam dunk that your name would come up."

"The admiral?"

"Yeah. The SecNav asked for his help."

"Who told them I might be interested?"

"That would be me, I guess."

"Harm. We flipped a coin remember. Your idea, as I recall. You won."

"Well, fate's funny like that. You never know what's going to happen next."

"Do I make you feel guilty about winning the toss? I've never looked back, you know. No need to feel guilty."

"I don't feel guilty!" Harm was exasperated with her illogical logic. "Go take a shower. I'll make dinner. We can talk then." Harm grabbed her shoulders and twirled her around and pointed her towards the stairs. "Go!"

Harm was lounging on the sofa. Dinner was done and dishes away. Trey was freshly bathed and in his pj's playing with Mac on the rug in front of the fireplace. The crackling fire cast a rosy glow on the pair as they diligently built a tall tower with wooden blocks. Harm raised a glass of wine to his lips. Trey shrieked as the tower crumbled. The two parents smiled simultaneously at the baby's fun.

"Have you decided?" asked Harm.

"I couldn't possibly go," said Mac.

"Why this time?"

"This!" she explained pointing to Trey and his blocks. "I can't miss this. This case could take months."

"It's in The Hague. You can come home on weekends. We could go visit you," Harm was starting to feel annoyed again. She could be so stubborn.

"You couldn't possibly look after Trey," she said. "Why, you can't even change his diapers correctly!"

Harm drew a blank.

Mac continued, "They're always too loose when you do it. If I don't tighten the tabs – it's a guaranteed wardrobe malfunction the next time he goes potty."

"I'll make sure the tabs are tight," said Harm.

"And that home made baby food… the bean mixture? I hate to tell you but it gives him the runs."

"Point taken. It's off the menu."

"Who's going to run him around the park every day?"

"Mom."

"Your mom can't run. And he likes it fast."

"Okay then, I'll do it. He can run with me."

"You run too early. You can't take him out a 0530."

Harm was silent at that. "Mac," he said finally said. In a firm voice.

"You think I'm being silly? Well, I'm not. He's still breast feeding."

"Trey is eight months, Mac. And you told me you weaned him a month ago."

"I did. I did. I just… Well I just couldn't give up that last feeding just before he goes to bed. He settles down so nicely after that. Sleeps right through the night. We want him to sleep through the night, right?"

Harm was silent. There were traces of tears on her cheeks. He watched his wife cradle their son in her arms, snuggling him close. She came over to the sofa and sat next to him.

"You're going to go, aren't you," he breathed into her hair as he put his arms around the pair.

"Yes. I just didn't think it would be this hard to do."

"We're tough. Mattie, Trey and myself. It won't be easy but we'll make it," he told her solemnly.

She whacked him. "You're laughing at me."

"No. Well, maybe a bit. This just wasn't the reaction I thought I'd get."

"What reaction was that?" she asked.

"Well, call me crazy but I thought it might be something along the line of you falling at my feet and telling me how wonderful I am."

"For ripping me away from the family I love? You really were dreaming!"

"What about the career you also love?" Harm asked.

"There's that too," she said.

"Sorry for keeping you out of the loop till the end."

"Well, it was probably for the best."

"It won't be so bad. You'll see."

"Yes," she said. "Wait, where are my uniforms?"

"I found them last weekend. Packed away in the storage locker. They're at the dry cleaners."

Realization hit again. She turned and whacked him across the shoulder, this time careful not to disturb Trey. The baby's eyelids were starting to droop.

She whispered, "That's why you decided to clean out the storage locker. I was wondering what possessed you to take on that job. You're such a sneak."

They sat together silently, watching the flames flicker and the embers glow. Mac lay back into him, resting her head on his chest.

"We'll miss you, marine," said Harm kissing her hair.

"You better, sailor," said Mac.

7


End file.
